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CALLE DEL P1STOR 



LITERARY LANDMARKS 

OF 

VENICE 



BY 



LAURENCE HUTTON 

author of "literary landmarks of london" 

"literary landmarks of Edinburgh" 

" literary landmarks of jerusalem " 



ILLUSTRATED 




NEW YORK 

HARPER & BROTHERS PUBLISHERS 

1896 




X -<L 






Copyright, 1896, by Harper & Brothers. 
All rights reserved. 



TO 
WILLIAM DEAN HOWELLS 

WHOSE VENETIAN LIFE 

MADE HAPPY 

MY LIFE IN VENICE 



ILLUSTRATIONS 



CALLE DEL PISTOR Frontispiece 

ORNAMENTAL HALF-TITLE Facing page xii 

THE COUNCIL CHAMBER OF THE DOGES. 

IN OTHELLO'S TIME " " 6 

THE OTHELLO HOUSE " " IO 

PETRARCH AND LAURA Page 1 6 

THE HOUSE OF PETRARCH Facing£age 20 

a characteristic canal " " 26 

byron's palace " " 30 

the rialto bridge. as shylock knew 

IT " " 32 

ENTRANCE TO THE MERCERIA .... " " 34 

CASA FALIER, WHERE MR. HO WELLS LIVED " " 40 

GOLDONI'S STAIRCASE " " 42 

GOLDONI'S STATUE " " 44 

BYRON'S STUDY IN THE ARMENIAN MON- 
ASTERY " " 48 

THE "NOAH CORNER" OF THE DOGE'S 

PALACE " " 56 

THE HOUSE IN WHICH BROWNING DIED " " 60 



INTRODUCTION 



In a chapter upon " Literary Residences," 
among The Curiosities of Literature, Isaac 
D'Israeli said: "No foreigners, men of let- 
ters, lovers of the arts, or even princes, would 
pass through Antwerp without visiting the 
House of Rubens, to witness the animated 
residence of genius, and the great man who 
conceived the idea." This volume is in- 
tended to be a record of the Animated Resi- 
dences of Genius which are still existing in 
Venice; and it is written for the foreigners, 
for the Men of Letters, for the lovers of art, 
and even for the princes who pass through 
the town, and who care to make such houses 
a visit. 

It is the result of many weeks of patient 
but pleasant study of Venice itself. Every- 
thing here set down has been verified by per- 



Vlll 



sonal observation, and is based upon the read- 
ing of scores of works of travel and biography. 
It is the Venice I know in the real life of 
the present and in the literature of the past ; 
and to me it is Venice from its best and most 
interesting side. 

The Queen of the Adriatic is peculiarly 
poor in local guide-books and in local maps. 
In the former are to be found but slight refer- 
ence to that part of Venice which is most 
dear to the lovers of bookmen and to the 
lovers of books; and the latter contain the 
names of none but the larger of the squares, 
streets, and canals, leaving, in many instances, 
the searcher after the smaller thoroughfares 
entirely afloat in the Adriatic, with no com- 
pass by which to steer. 

The stranger in Venice, accustomed to the 
nomenclature of the streets and the avenues, 
the alleys and the courts, of the cities and 
towns with which he is familiar in other 
parts of the world, may be interested to 
learn that here a large canal is called a Rio, 
or a Canale ; that a Calle is a street open at 
both ends ; that a Rio Terra is a street which 



IX 



was once a canal ; that a Ramo is a small, 
narrow street, branching out of a larger one ; 
that a Salizzada is a wide, paved street ; that 
a Ruga is just a street ; that a Rughetta, or 
a Piscina, is a little street ; that a i?zz/# is a 
narrow footway along the bank of a canal; 
that a Fondamenta is a longer and a broader 
passage - way, a quay, or an embankment ; 
that a Corte is a court-yard ; that a Sotto- 
portico is an entrance into a court, through, 
or under, a house — that which in Edinburgh is 
called a Pend, and in Paris a Cite ; that a large 
square is a Piazza ; that a small square is a 
Piazzetta, or a Campo ; that a small campo is a 
Campiello; that a plain, commonplace house 
is a Casa ; that a mansion is a Palazzo ; that 
an island is an Isola; that a bridge is a Ponte ; 
that a tower is a Campanile ; that a ferry is a 
Traghetto ; that a parish is a Parrochia; and 
that a district is a Contrada, or a Sistiere. 

Armed with this information, the readers 
must do the rest for themselves. 

To Mrs. Clara Erskine Clement, to Miss 
Henrietta Macy, to Mrs. Walter F. Brown, 
to Mr. Charles Dudley Warner, to Dr. Alex- 



ander Robertson, to Mr. William Logsdail, 
I owe my thanks for much valuable informa- 
tion given me while I was enlarging, elabo- 
rating, and revising the article, printed in 
Harpers Magazine for July, 1896, upon 
which this volume is based. 

Laurence Hutton. 

Casa Frolo, 
50 Giudecca. 



LITERARY LANDMARKS OF VENICE 



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LITERARY LANDMARKS OF 
VENICE 



It is almost impossible for any one who is 
at all familiar with the voluminous amount 
of literature relating to the history and to the 
art of Venice, to refrain from quoting, volun- 
tarily or involuntarily, what he has read and 
absorbed concerning " the dangerous and 
sweet-charmed town," which Ruskin calls a 
golden city paved with emerald, and which 
Goethe said is a city which can only be com- 
pared with itself. Comparisons in Venice are 
certainly as odorous as are some of its canals, 
while many of its streets are not only paved 
with emerald, but are frescoed now with glar- 
ing End-of-the-Nineteenth-Century advertise- 
ments of dentifrice and sewing-machines. 

That which first strikes the observant 



stranger in Venice, to-day, is the fact that 
the Venetians have absolutely and entirely 
lost their grip upon the beautiful. Nothing 
on earth can be finer than the art of its glory; 
nothing in the world can be viler than the 
so-called art of its decadence. That the de- 
scendants of the men who decorated the 
palaces of five or six hundred years ago could 
have conceived, or endured, the wall-papers, 
the stair-carpets, and the hat-racks in the 
Venetian hotels of the present, is beyond be- 
lief. Whatever is old is magnificent, from the 
madonnas of Gian Bellini to the window of 
the Cicogna Palace on the Fondamenta Briati. 
Whatever is new is ugly, from the railway- 
station at one end of the Grand Canal to 
the gas-house at the other. And the iron 
bridges, and the steamboats, and the drop- 
curtain in the Malibran Theatre are the worst 
of all. 

When the English-speaking and the Eng- 
lish-reading visitors in Venice, for whom this 
volume is written, overcome the feeling that 
they are predestined to fall into one of the 
canals before they leave the city ; when they 



become accustomed to being driven about in 
a hearse-shaped, one-manned row-boat ; when 
they have been shown all the traditional 
sights, have bought the regulation old brass 
and old glass, have learned to draw smoke 
out of the long, thin, black, rat-tailed straw- 
covering things the Venetians call cigars — 
when they have seen and have done all these, 
they will find themselves much more inter- 
ested in the house in which Byron lived, and 
in the perfectly restored palace in which 
Browning died, than in the half -ruined, 
wholly decayed mansions of all the Doges 
who were ever Lord Mayors of Venice. The 
guide-books tell us where Faliero plotted and 
where Foscari fell, where Desdemona suf- 
fered and where Shylock traded; but they 
give us no hint as to where Sir Walter Scott 
lodged or where Rogers breakfasted, or what 
was done here by the many English-speaking 
Men of Letters who have made Venice known 
to us, and properly understood. Upon these 
chiefly it is my purpose here to dwell. 

Venice, with all her literature, has brought 
forth but few literary men of her own. There 



are but few poets among her legitimate sons, 
and few were the poets she adopted. The 
early annalists and the later historians were 
almost the only writers of importance who 
were entitled to call her mother ; and to most 
of these she has been, though kindly, little 
more than a step-mother or a mother-in-law. 
Shakspere, who wrote much about Ven- 
ice, and who probably never saw it, re- 
marked once that all the world's a stage. 
Venice, even now, is a grand spectacular 
show ; and no drama ever written is more 
dramatic than is Venice itself. Mr. Howells 
prefaces his Venetian Life by an account of 
the play, and the by-play, which he once 
saw from a stage-box in the little theatre in 
Padua, when the prompters, and the scene- 
shifters, and the actors in the wings, were as 
prominent to him as were the tragedians and 
comedians who strutted, and mouthed, and 
sawed the air with their hands, in full view 
of the house; and he adds: "It has some- 
times seemed to me as if fortune had given 
me a stage-box at another and grander spec- 
tacle, and that I had been suffered to see 



this Venice, which is to other cities like the 
pleasant improbability of the theatre to every- 
day, commonplace life, to much the same 
effect as that melodrama in Padua." It has 
been my own good fortune to spend, at vari- 
ous seasons, a short time in the pit — " on a 
standee ticket " — just to drop in for a moment 
now and then, when the performance is 
nearly over, and to look not so much at the 
broken-down stage and its worn-out settings, 
not so much at the actors and at the acting, 
as to study the audiences, the crowds of men 
and women in parquet, gallery, and boxes, 
who have been sitting for centuries through 
the different thrilling acts of the great plays 
played here ; and have applauded, or hissed, 
as the case may be. 

So strange and so strong is the power of 
fiction over truth, in Venice, as everywhere 
else, that Portia and Emilia, Cassio, Antonio, 
and Iago, appear to have been more real here 
than are the women and men of real life. We 
see, on the Rialto, Shylock first, and then its 
history and its associations ; and the Council 
Chamber of the Palace of the Doges is chiefly 



interesting as being the scene of Othello's 
eloquent defence of himself. 

It is a curious fact, recorded by Th. Elze, 
and quoted by Mr. Horace Howard Furness, 
in his Appendix to The Merchant of Venice^ 
that at the time of the action of that drama, 
in Shakspere's own day, there was living in 
Padua a professor of the University whose 
characteristics fully and entirely corresponded 
with all the qualities of " Old Bellario," and 
with all the requisites of the play. In his 
concluding passages Elze described the Uni- 
versity of Padua at the close of the Sixteenth 
Century, when there were representatives of 
twenty-three nations among its students. He 
said that not a few Englishmen took up their 
abode in Padua, for a longer or a shorter time, 
for the purposes of study ; all of whom must 
naturally have visited Venice. " And," he 
added, " if it has been hitherto impossible 
to prove that Shakspere drew his knowledge 
of Venice and Padua, and the region about, 
from personal observation, it is quite possible 
to suppose that he obtained it by word of 
mouth, either from Italians living in England, 



or from Englishmen who had pursued their 
studies at Padua." 

Among the significant names given by 
Elze as students at Padua are Rosenkranz, 
in 1587 to 1589, and Guldenstern, in 1603. 

One of the most distinguished of the Eng- 
lish representatives who took up his abode in 
Padua in the middle of the Eighteenth Cen- 
tury, was Oliver Goldsmith, who, according 
to John Forster, received his degree there, 
although there is no official record of such a 
fact. 

Signor Giuseppe Tassini, in his Curiosita 
Veneziane, published in 1863, gives the follow- 
ing account of what is known as " Othello's 
House," which has, in all probability, never 
before been put into English, and is here 
roughly translated. At the right-hand side 
of the Campo del Carmine, or on the little 
canal of the same name, he says, in effect, 
stands what is left of an ancient palace 
supposed, but incorrectly, to have belonged 
once to an influential family called Moro. 
Christoforo Moro, a cadet of the house, was 
sent to Cyprus in 1505 ; and he returned in 



1508 to relate to the magnificos of his 
native city his adventures there, having in 
the meantime lost his first wife. In 15 15 he 
was married again, and to Demonia Bian- 
co, daughter of Donato da Lazze. Rawdon 
Brown and other writers, continues Signor 
Tassini, believe that upon this hint Shak- 
spere spoke, making Othello a Moor, as a 
play upon the name Moro, and turning De- 
monia Bianco into Desdemona. But he 
adds that the Goro, not the Moro, family 
lived here in the beginning of the Sixteenth 
Century, the latter occupying a palace in the 
Campo di S. Giovanni Decollato, now the 
Campo S. Zan Degola, some distance away. 
Confusing the names of Goro and Moro, 
and fancying that the ancient figure of a 
warrior standing on the corner of the Campo 
del Carmine house, now blackened by time, 
although not so black as he is painted, repre- 
sents a Moor, the guides and the gondoliers, 
and even the antiquaries, of Venice have 
given to " Othello's House," according to 
Signor Tassini, a local reputation and a name 
which it does not merit. 



The beautiful little Gothic Palazzo Con- 
tarini-Fasan, built in the Fourteenth Century 
and done over at the end of the Nineteenth, 
on the right bank of the Grand Canal, going 
towards the Rialto, and near the Grand Hotel, 
seems to have no excuse, either from tradi- 
tion or from any confusion of names, for call- 
ing itself "the House of Desdemona" at all. 
Its only dramatic interest to-day consists in 
the fact that it has been the home of Signora 
Eleonora Duse, the leading actress of Italy, 
who is called by her admirers the Italian Sara 
Bernhardt, although she has genius enough 
of her own to warrant her being compared 
with no one but herself. 

And thus perish, at the hands of a trans- 
atlantic, present-day iconoclast and grubber 
after the truth, two of the most cherished of 
the Landmarks of Venice. 

Mr. Hare is of the opinion that the Doge 
Christoforo Moro, buried in the Church of 
S. Giobbe in the Canareggio District, is the 
Moro of the Othello legend, although he died 
in 1470, almost half a century before Signor 
Tassini married him to Desdemona ; and his 



10 



tomb, in the chancel of the church, as Mr. 
Hare points out, " is ornamented with the 
moro or mulberry, which was his family de- 
vice." It will be remembered that Othello 
inherited from his mamma a handkerchief 
spotted with strawberries (mulberries ?) which 
played an important part in the great tragedy 
of his life. 

Christoforo Moro lies under a large flat 
stone in front of the altar of the church. The 
slab has been greatly defaced by the tread 
of generations of priests and of acolytes, but 
its carvings still bear distinct traces of fruits 
which to-day look as much like strawberries 
as mulberries, while certain of their leaves are 
decidedly of the strawberry form. A por- 
trait of Doge Moro hangs in the sacristy of 
S. Giobbe. It exhibits a face in which there 
are no signs of the duskiness which dramatic 
tradition has given to Othello during all these 
years, but which is hard enough to have 
silenced the most dreadful belle who ever 
frighted the isle from its propriety. 

Mr. Hare also explains that a story very 
like to that of Shakspere's Othello was told 




THE OTHELLO HOUSE 



II 



in the seventh novella of the third decade 
of Giovanni Battista Cinthio's collection of 
stories, called the Ecatomiti, in which the 
name of the heroine is the same, and in which 
the original Iago suggested to Othello that a 
stocking filled with sand might be an admi- 
rable weapon against his wife if it were judi- 
ciously applied to her back. Mr. Hare quotes 
Bishop Bollani as writing in 1602, June 1st: 
" The day before yesterday, a Sanudo, living 
in the Rio della Croce, on the Giudecca, com- 
pelled his wife, a lady of the Cappello family, 
to go to confession, and the following night, 
towards the fifth hour, plunged a dagger into 
her heart and killed her. It is said that she 
had been unfaithful to him, but the voice of 
her neighborhood proclaimed her a saint." 

The voice of the gallery has proclaimed 
Desdemona a saint ever since ! 

The Venetians still believe implicitly in the 
statue of the sunburnt warrior, and in Shak- 
spere's history of his life. And Mr. Howells's 
gondolier not only showed him the house of 
Cassio, near the Rialto Bridge, but was ready 
to point out the residence of the amiable 



12 



Iago and of Emilia, his wife. Cassio, I may 
remark, is said here to have been Desde- 
mona's cousin, and Iago is believed to have 
been the major-domo of the distracted house- 
hold. 

The modern Venetian dealers in second- 
hand portraits, and the venders of bric-a-brac 
of all kinds, seem to have learned their strict 
and universal Economy of Truth from the 
memorial tablets over their shops. If you 
are offered here an article of original, home- 
made, present-time antiquity for five lire, you 
may depend upon getting it for two lire and 
a half, and you may be sure that it costs you, 
even then, about twice as much as it is worth. 
If an inscription in old Latin or in choice 
Italian tells you that " Here lived " some 
particular Venetian hero of sword or pen, 
you may put down in your diary that he 
probably visited next door, or that he died 
over the way. 

The tablet devoted to Marco Polo, how- 
ever, being upon the side of a play-house 
where fiction is supposed to reign supreme, 
seems to have established itself as the excep- 



13 

tion which proves this rule. Only a small 
portion of the Palazzo dei Polo now remains. 
What is left of it is little more than a frag- 
ment of an outside staircase in a corner of the 
Corte Millione in the Canareggio District. 
The mansion at one time covered no small 
part of the neighboring territory, which still 
bears distinct traces of wealthy and aristo- 
cratic occupancy. Over the door-way of the 
Malibran Theatre, on the Rio del Teatro 
Malibran, is an inscription stating that "This 
was the house of Marco Polo, who travelled 
in the remotest parts of Asia, and described 
them. This tablet was placed here by the 
Commune in 1881." 

The great voyager was born in this house, 
and here he spent, in comparative quiet, after 
many years of toilsome but profitable travel, 
the last days of his life. Having, like Shak- 
spere's banish'd Norfolk, retired himself to 
Italy, here in Venice he gave his body to 
this pleasant country's earth, in 1323 or 
thereabouts. How far the rest of the quota- 
tion is applicable to his peculiar case no 
man, of course, can say. Polo was called by 



14 

alliterative neighbors "Mark the Millionaire" 
— hence the " Corte Millione "; and the rich 
man, proverbially, does not find heaven a 
place of easy access. 

The Corte Millione, Polo's court-yard, is 
now the al-fresco foyer of the Malibran 
Theatre, which was built originally in 1678. 
But hardly one of the millions of Venetian 
youths who, for more than two centuries, 
have cooled themselves under the stars, by 
the side of Polo's old well and Polo's old 
marble balustrade, between the acts of the 
play or the ballet, ever heard of Mark the 
Millionaire, or care where he lived or where 
he died. 

The mystery as to the exact part of this 
pleasant country's earth which received Mar- 
co Polo's body has never been cleared up. In 
a copy of his last will and testament, I read, 
however, that he left a certain sum of money 
to the Monastery of Saint Lawrence here, 
" where I desire to be buried." He certainly 
buried his father, Nicolo Polo, in the old and 
original Church of S. Lorenzo ; and the natu- 
ral inference is that he himself lies some- 



15 

where within its precincts. The sarcophagus 
erected for the elder Polo by the filial care of 
the younger Polo is known to have existed, 
until towards the end of the Sixteenth Cen- 
tury, in the porch leading to the church. 

The old building was renewed, from its 
very foundations, in 1592, and no traces of 
the ancient structure remain ; the old paro- 
chial records no longer exist, and even the 
name of the Polos is as unknown to the 
parochial authorities to-day as it is to the 
worldlings who crowd the theatre erected 
upon the site of the house which was their 
home. 

Petrarch is known to have made several 
visits to Venice, and he is said to have been 
very familiar with it, and very fond of it, 
even in his youth. In 1353 or '54 he was 
certainly here, for a short time, in an official 
capacity ; and documentary evidence clearly 
proves that he settled in Venice in 1362 — a 
cholera year — and remained here until 1368, 
making annual excursions to Padua, and 
spending certain of the summer and autumn 
months with friends at Pavia. During this 



i6 



period he determined to bequeath a portion 
of his rich library to Venice for the use of 
students and the general public, and as an 




DEL PETRARCHA. E.DI M.LAVRA. 



example to other men. He was highly es- 
teemed by the Venetians, and his house was 
the meeting-place of the wise and the power- 
ful. Boccaccio was his guest here for many 
months ; they talked and walked, and they 
sailed the canals and the lagoons together in 
perfect sympathy; and there still exists a 



17 

letter of Petrarch to Boccaccio, asking the 
latter poet to come again, and to stay longer 
next time. 

Signor N. Barozzi, in a volume entitled 
Petrarca e Venezia> published in Venice in 
1874, reprints, from the old plan of the city, 
now in the Archaeological Museum* a rough 
sketch of Petrarch's house during his residence 
here between 1362 and 1368; and he seems 
to establish the fact that it was hired by the 
poet, not presented to him by the city, as is 
generally believed. It was then called the 
Palazzo del Molin, and it stood near to the 
Ponte del Sepolcro on the Riva degli Schia- 
voni, a broad promenade and wharf a short 
distance east of the Ducal Palace. This 
house, according to Petrarch himself, was 
humble enough ; it had two towers, a style 
of architecture not uncommon in those days ; 
and according to Signor Barozzi it was, later, 
a monastery, and at the present time is oc- 
cupied as a barrack. If Signor Barozzi and 
the plan are correct, it is not the house 
marked by the tablet, and pointed out in the 
guide-books as Petrarch's, but the building 



18 

on the corner of the little Calle del Dose, and 
some forty or fifty paces to the east of the 
generally accepted spot. 

The two original towers of the Petrarch 
house disappeared long ago ; the entire front 
is new and ugly, and the rear portions, al- 
though they are old and picturesque, do 
not date back to the Fourteenth Century. 
There is, probably, no part of the mansion 
left, as Petrarch knew and loved it, except, 
perhaps, the pavement of the court -yard. 
Even the old marble well is not as old as 
the days of the great poet. The interior of 
the establishment is not now seen of the 
public, except by permission of the military 
authorities, but it is one of the most inter- 
esting of the Landmarks of Venice, because 
of its association with the two immortal men 
who once adorned it. 

Petrarch from his tower had a perfect 
view of the city and of the Adriatic, watch- 
ing as he did the navies of the then known 
world as they entered and left the harbor, 
and looking out over the sea and down upon 
the crowds of busy men. His life here was, 



19 

no doubt, a happy one ; as must be the life 
of any man who brings to Venice some 
knowledge of its history, some idea of its 
art, some fondness for its traditions, and let- 
ters of introduction to some of its men of 
mind in all professions. 

Signor Tassini says that while Petrarch 
lived here he often enjoyed the society of 
his natural daughter, Francesca, who once, 
in this house, and in the absence of her fa- 
ther, received the sad news of the death, at 
her home in Pavia, of her infant child ; when 
Boccaccio acted as comforter, and tried in 
vain to stay her maternal tears. 

Mr. Horatio F. Brown and Mr. Howells 
both quote a letter, written in Latin, by 
Petrarch to his friend Pietro Bolognese, in 
which he describes a famous festival held in 
the Piazza S. Marco to celebrate a victory 
over the Greeks in Candia. The poet was 
seated in the place of honor, at the right of 
the Doge, in the gallery of the Cathedral, 
and in front of the bronze horses ; and he 
tells of the many youths, decked in purple 
and gold, ruling with the rein, and urging 



20 



with the spur, their horses in the then un- 
paved square, and watched by a throng of 
spectators so great that a grain of barley- 
could not have fallen to the ground. There 
is not a horse in all Venice to-day; the 
youths wear ulsters when it is cold, and very 
little of anything when it is hot ; and every 
grain of barley which falls to the ground 
is ravenously devoured by the doves, who 
alone of all the Venetians wear the purple 
now. If tradition, for the once, speaks truly, 
these very doves are the direct descendants 
of the carrier-pigeons which brought to Ad- 
miral Dandolo information from spies in 
Candia leading to the capture of the island, 
and which may have received grains of bar- 
ley from the hand of Petrarch himself. As 
such do the doves of the present day receive 
grains of barley from me. 

Mr. Brown, in his admirable study of The 
Venetian Printing Press, says that Aldus is 
not known, of a certainty, to have lived in 
the house, or even on the site of the house, 
No. 231 1 Rio Terra Secondo, in the parish 
of S. Agostino, which is marked with a tablet 








■——If 




: *\ 




21 



as his. But the fact that there still exists a 
letter addressed to Gregoropoulos at the little 
narrow Calle del Pistor, close by, and written 
while Gregoropoulos was employed by Al- 
dus as corrector of Greek manuscript and 
Greek proof, would seem to imply that the 
famous printing-press may have stood in the 
latter street, if such a gutter can be called a 
street at all. It resembles no thoroughfares 
elsewhere in the world except the closes of 
Edinburgh; but it is not unlikely to have 
been the scene of the birth of the Aldines so 
dearly prized by the bookworms of to-day. 
The original Aldus is believed to have settled 
in Venice about 1488. As Mrs. Clara Erskine 
Clement remarks, he was no mere printer; 
and although it is by that name now that he 
is most frequently regarded, he was a scholar 
before he was a printer, and he became a 
printer because of his scholarship. Concern- 
ing the many troublesome visitors to his 
place of business who went there to gossip 
and to kill their time, Aldus wrote, upon a 
later establishment : " We make bold to ad- 
monish such, in classical words, in a sort of 



22 



edict placed over our door, ' Whoever you 
are, Aldo requests you, if you want anything 
ask for it in a few words and depart, unless, 
like Hercules, you come to lend the aid of 
your shoulders to the weary Atlas. Here 
will always be found, in that case, some- 
thing for you to do, however many you 
may be.' " 

Aldo Pio transferred the business in, or 
about, 1506 to the Campo S. Paternian, now 
called the Campo Manin ; and there he lived 
and printed good books and good literature, 
succeeded by his son and his grandson. A 
very modern Bank for Savings now occupies 
the site of this establishment, and covers 
the entire back of the square. But a mar- 
ble tablet of recent date, placed on its side, 
bears an inscription to the effect that " Aldo 
Pio, Paolo, and Aldo II., Manuzio, Princes 
in the Art of Typography in the Sixteenth 
Century, diffused, with classic books from 
this place, a new light of cultured wisdom " ; 
the translation being by Dr. Alexander Rob- 
ertson. This Campo S. Paternian house 
was probably that which bore the inscrip- 



23 

tion quoted above, and relating to Atlas and 
the intellectual Hercules. 

According to tradition, a certain Hercules 
named Erasmus came, in 1506, to lend his 
shoulder to the support of the load ; and 
found something to do. Erasmus in the 
workshop of Aldus, printing, perhaps, his 
own Adages, is a picture for a poet or a 
painter to conjure with. Venice in all its 
glory never saw a greater sight. 

Luther is known to have passed through 
Venice a few years later than this. He is 
supposed to have lodged in the cloisters of 
the Church of S. Stefano here, on his way 
to Rome, and to have celebrated mass at its 
high altar. S. Stefano is near the square of 
the same name, and it is not otherwise par- 
ticularly distinguished. It dates back to the 
end of the Thirteenth and the beginning of 
the Fourteenth Century. 

Another Hercules, as great in his way as 
was Erasmus, lent the aid of his shoulders 
to the weary Atlas of the Aldine Press in 
the Sixteenth Century ; to wit, Paolo Sarpi, 
Scholar, Scientist, Philosopher, Statesman, 



24 

Author, and Martyr, whom Gibbon called 
" the incomparable historian of the Council 
of Trent," and who is called by his present- 
day biographer, Dr. Robertson, " the great- 
est of Venetians." 

Sarpi was born in Venice, in 1552 ; he was 
educated in Venice ; in Venice he spent the 
better part of his life ; in Venice he died ; 
and in Venice he was very much buried. 
He was brutally stabbed by hired assassins 
while crossing the Ponte dei Pugni, in 1607; 
but he recovered, and did not surrender his 
indomitable soul until 1623. 

Sarpi's posthumous fate for two centuries 
was an exceedingly restless one. His body 
was interred originally at the foot of an 
altar in the Servite Church here, with which 
he was intimately associated. In 1624 the 
Servite friars, warned of an intended desecra- 
tion of his grave, removed his bones to a 
secret place in their monastery. The next 
year they carried them back to the church. 
In 1722 they were removed to still another 
part of the same church. In 1828, the whole 
establishment having become a ruin, Sar- 



25 

pi's bones were carried to the Seminary 
belonging to, and adjoining, S. Maria della 
Salute. They were next transferred to a 
private house in the parish of S. Biagio ; 
then they were kept, for a time, in the Li- 
brary of Saint Mark, in the Doge's Palace, 
and finally they were placed under a slab, 
near the main entrance of the Church of 
S. Michele, on the Cemetery Island of that 
name, where, after having been once more 
disturbed, in 1846, it is to be hoped they will 
be permitted to rest. 

The church of the Servites no longer ex- 
ists. A fragment of its ancient wall and two 
fine old door-ways, however, are still left. 
The main entrance, long ago bricked up, re- 
mains to-day, with one other old gate, which 
was the entrance to the monastery; and that 
is all. The larger portion of the site of the 
foundation is a flower garden ; a modern 
chapel, dedicated in 1894, occupies a small 
corner of the ground. And the rest is an in- 
dustrial school for poor girls, from seven to 
twenty-one years of age, who here, without 
cost to themselves, are educated for a self- 



26 

supporting, useful life ; as noble a monu- 
ment as Paolo Sarpi could wish or have. 
The remains of the church of the Servites 
may be reached by the Rio di S. Fosca ; and 
they stand in the parish of S. Maria dell' 
Orto. Here Sarpi wrote his almost countless 
works, from a Treatise on the Interdict, and 
a History of Ecclesiastical Benefices, to the 
History of the Uscocks, a band of pirates who 
infested the Dalmatian coast. 

An elaborate statue of Sarpi, erected in 
1892, is in the Campo Fosca, near the scene 
of his attempted murder, and on his direct 
way between his cloistered home and the 
Ducal Palace. The Greatest of the Vene- 
tians stands, in monumental bronze, with his 
face to the street and his back to the ca- 
nal, and in figure as well as in features he 
suggests in many ways the younger, and the 
greater, of the DTsraelis, with whom, except 
in nationality, he had so little in common. 

The DTsraelis, it will be remembered, 
were descended from a line of prosperous 
Jewish merchants who had lived here in the 
days when Venice was still, in a measure, 




o- 




27 

the Queen of the Adriatic. Neither of the 
two men of the race who made it famous in 
the annals of literature was born here, but 
they were both of them visitors here, al- 
though neither of them has left any record 
as to where or when. Isaac D'Israeli, how- 
ever, in a paper upon "Venice," among his 
Curiosities, in refuting Byron's statement 
that " In Venice Tasso's Echoes are no 
more," takes bodily and literally, without 
credit, Goethe's description of how he " en- 
tered a gondola by moonlight. One singer 
placed himself forwards and the other aft, 
and then proceeded to S. Giorgio." Then 
follow, in Goethe's words, DTsraeli's remarks 
upon the music of the gondoliers, closing, 
still in Goethe's words, with an experience 
familiar to all subsequent visitors here: 
"The sleepy canals, the lofty buildings, the 
splendor of the moon, the deep shadows of 
the few gondolas that moved like spirits 
hither and thither, increased the striking pe- 
culiarity of the scene ; and amidst all these 
circumstances it was easy to confess the 
character of this wonderful harmony." 



28 

In another chapter of The Curiosities, 
which is entitled " The Origin of the News- 
paper," DTsraeli, stealing, perhaps, from 
somebody else, tells us that the first expres- 
sion of Literature in the form of a periodi- 
cal was made in Venice. It was, he says, a 
Government organ originally issued once a 
month ; and even long after the invention of 
printing it appeared in manuscript. It was 
called La Gazetta, he adds, perhaps from 
" gazzera," a magpie, or chatterer, or more 
likely from " gazzeta," the small Venetian 
coin which was its price after it appeared in 
type. If this fact establishes another Liter- 
ary Landmark for Venice, let Venice have 
all the credit of it. 

Marino Sanudo, the younger and the great- 
er of that name, was one of the early sons of 
Venice who found his mother neither nour- 
ishing, comforting, nor affectionate. He be- 
gan to take notes, and to make notes, even 
as a child, his initial researches having com- 
menced before he was ten years of age. He 
started his Diary when he was about seven- 
teen; fifty-six volumes of it, covering a period 



2 9 

of almost as many years, are still in exist- 
ence, although not in Venice ; and the larger 
portions of them have been printed. Besides 
these, he published voluminous works, all of 
them of the greatest value to the student of 
the history of his native state. Mrs. Oliphant 
calls him " one of the most gifted and aston- 
ishing of historical moles." The height of 
his aspiration was the gratitude and appre- 
ciation of the world, by whom he was en- 
tirely forgotten for three centuries or more, 
until Rawdon Brown rescued his name, and 
his works, from oblivion, and shamed the 
Venetians into marking, in a suitable way, 
the house in which he lived ; although there 
is no record of the grave in which he was 
laid. 

Sanudo's house is still standing on the cor- 
ner of the Fondamenta and the Ponte del 
Megio, directly in the rear of, and not far 
from, the Fondaco dei Turchi. It is plain 
and substantial, what is called a genteel man- 
sion, and it was a worthy home for a plain 
and substantial and modest Man of Letters. 
The tablet is weather-worn and stained, and 



3Q 

it looks much older than the days of Rawdon 
Brown. The inscription, roughly translated, 
states that " Here dwelt Marino Leonardo F. 
Sanuto, who, while he well knew the history 
of the whole universe, still wrote with truth 
and fidelity of his own country and of his 
own times. He died here in April, 1536." 

According to tradition, says Signor Tas- 
sini, when Tasso came to Venice with Al- 
fonso di Ferrara to meet Henry III. of 
France, he lodged in what is now known as 
the Fondaco dei Turchi, an Italo-Byzantine 
structure of the Ninth Century, and one of 
the oldest secular buildings in the city. It 
stands on the Grand Canal, on the left as 
one sails from St. Mark's to the railway- 
station, and past the Rialto ; but it was en- 
tirely modernized about a quarter of a century 
ago, and it now contains the collection of the 
Museo Civico. There is also a tradition that 
Tasso, in later years, found refuge in the 
Palazzo Contarini delle Figure, on the other 
side of the Grand Canal and on the other 
side of the Rialto Bridge. It is near to the 
Mocenigo Palace, once the home of Byron. 




byron's palace, ventce 



3i 

Montaigne arrived in Venice in 1580, and 
his remarks about the city and its inhabi- 
tants three centuries ago are quaint and en- 
tertaining. He was somewhat disappointed 
in the show places, but greatly interested in 
the people. He recorded that he hired for 
himself a gondola, which he was entitled to 
the use of, night and day, for two lire per 
diem, about seventeen sous, as he explained, 
including the boatman. Provisions here he 
found as dear as at Paris ; but then, in other 
respects, he considered it the cheapest place 
in the world to live in, for the train of at- 
tendants which one required elsewhere was 
here altogether useless, everybody going 
about by himself, which made great saving 
in clothes ; and, moreover, one had no occa- 
sion for horses. His stay here was very short. 
He said of Italy generally that he had never 
seen a country in which there were so few 
pretty women. And the inns he found far 
less convenient than those of France or Ger- 
many. The provisions were not half so plen- 
tiful, and not nearly so well dressed. The 
houses, too, in Italy were very inferior ; there 



32 

were no good rooms, and the large windows 
had no glass or other protection against the 
weather ; the bedrooms were mere cabins, 
and the beds wretched pallets, running upon 
casters, with a miserable canopy over them ; 
" and Heaven help him who cannot lie hard !" 

Milton was in Venice in the months of 
April and May, 1639, but the only incident 
of his stay here which he recorded is that he 
shipped to England a number of books which 
he had collected in different parts of Italy ; 
and some of these, we are told, by one who 
saw them later in the lodging-house in St. 
Bride's Church-yard, London, were curious 
and rare, " including a chest or two of choice 
music-books from the best masters flourish- 
ing then in Italy." 

Among the volumes which Milton bought 
and studied in Venice was a history of the 
town, in Latin, printed by the Elzevirs in 
163 1. It contains the folding-plates of the 
Rialto, and of the interior of the Council 
Chamber of the Doges, which are reproduced 
here ; and the well-preserved copy of the 
same work, bought behind the Cathedral by 



33 

the present chronicler, for a few lire, he high- 
ly prizes, as presenting views of the public 
places of Venice contemporary with The 
Merchant of Venice and Othello, and as, per- 
haps, having passed here through Milton's 
own hands. It was the latest and most au- 
thentic chronicle of its kind when Venice re- 
ceived Milton on the bosoms of her canals. 

John Evelyn came to Venice in the month 
of May, 1645, and, as he put it, as soon as 
he got ashore his portmanteaus were exam- 
ined at the Dogana, and then he went to his 
lodging, which was at honest Signor Rhodo- 
mante's, at the Black Eagle, near the Rialto, 
one of the best quarters of the town. The 
journey from Rome to Venice, he stated, 
cost him seven pistoles and thirteen julios. 
" Two days after, taking a gondola, which 
is their water- coach," he said, "we rode up 
and down their canals, which answer to our 
streets. These vessels are built very long 
and narrow, having necks and tails of steel, 
somewhat spreading at the beak, like a fish's 
tail, and kept so exceedingly polished as to 

give a great lustre." His first visit was to 

3 



34 

the Rialto. " It was evening, and the canal 
where the Noblesse go to take the air, as in 
our Hyde Park, was full of ladies and gen- 
tlemen. . . . Next day I went to the Ex- 
change, a place like ours, frequented by mer- 
chants, but nothing so magnificent. . . . 
Hence I passed through the Merceria, one 
of the most delicious streets in the world for 
the sweetness of it [!] ; and is all the way, on 
both sides, tapestried, as it were, with cloth 
of gold, rich damasks and other silks, which 
the shops expose and hang before their 
houses from the first floor ; ... to this add 
the perfumes, apothecaries' shops, and the 
innumerable cages of nightingales, which 
they keep, that entertain you with their mel- 
ody from shop to shop, so that shutting your 
eyes you could imagine yourself in the 
country, when, indeed, you are in the mid- 
dle of the sea." Evelyn left Venice at the 
end of March, 1646. 

Ruskin, in The Stories of Venice, speaks of 
" the hostelry of the Black Eagle, with its 
square door of marble deeply moulded in the 
outer wall, where we see the shadows of its 




ENTRANCE TO THE MERCERIA 



35 

pergola of vines resting on an ancient well, 
with a pointed shield carved on its side." 
This must not be confounded with Signor 
Rhodomante's establishment, where Evelyn 
was entertained two centuries earlier. Eve- 
lyn's Black Eagle, after many inquiries among 
the oldest residents of its neighborhood, and 
after much interesting and fluent interchange 
of bad Italian and worse English, was dis- 
covered to be the ancient house near the 
Rialto Bridge, now numbered 5238 Calle dei 
Stagneri, on the Ponte della Fava, and close 
to the Campo S. Bartolommeo, where stands 
the Goldoni statue. The house has retired 
to private life, and is, at present, the home of 
a practising lawyer in good standing. 

Ruskin's Black Eagle died an unnatural 
death in 1880, when a certain unusually 
narrow street was wiped out of existence, 
under the direction of a chie/ magistrate 
(whose name was Dante di Siego Alighieri), 
to make way for the broad avenue now known 
as the Street of the 22d of March. The 
inn was in a retired corner, but on the line 
of travel between the larger hotels and the 



36 

Square of S. Moise. Not a stone of it seems 
to be left in Venice now. 

Ruskin himself, while preserving and pol- 
ishing The Stones of Venice, was very fond 
of an old-fashioned modest little inn, called 
La Calcina, in the Zattere Quarter, on the 
corner of the Campiello della Calcina and 
by the bridge of the same name. Ruskin's 
rooms were over the portico, looking out on 
the Giudecca Canal, and in fair weather he 
breakfasted and dined under the shadow of 
a pergola of vines in the very small garden 
in the rear of the house. 

On the Zattere side of this hostelry, over 
a little gateway in a passage leading to the 
garden, is a tablet stating that here died the 
celebrated poet Apostolo Zeno, in 1750. He 
was born in Venice, eighty-two years before. 
He came of an old Venetian family, distin- 
guished in the world of letters. He was a 
poet, "and the reformer and renovator" of 
the melodrama in Italy, and he wrote works 
of a serious as well as of a romantic char- 
acter. His fine library is now a portion of 
the Library of St. Mark. 



37 

During another visit to Venice Ruskin 
lived in the house of Rawdon Brown (q. v.) ; 
and after Mr. Brown's death he lodged at 
the Hotel Europa. All this information was 
gathered from his personal guide, who de- 
scribed him as " a very curious man, who 
looked at things with his eyes shut," imitat- 
ing, as he spoke, that half-closed-eyelid gaze 
of a near-sighted person so familiar to all 
normally visioned observers. 

In what is now called the Casa Brown, a 
stone's -throw from the Calcina Inn, and in 
the home of his warm friend and literary 
executor Mr. Horatio F. Brown, lived and 
worked, while in Venice, John Addington 
Symonds, and herefrom he went, in the 
spring of 1893, to Rome to die. Symonds's 
apartments were on the lower floor of the 
house, which stands on the Bridge and Cam- 
piello Incurabili, of the Zattere. In the up- 
per story were written Mr. Brown's Venetian 
Studies, Life on the Lagoons, The Venetian 
Printing Press, etc. 

Rawdon Brown lived and died in the Casa 
della Vida; S. Marcuolo — the address is 



taken from one of his own visiting-cards. 
He occupied the second and third floors of 
this house, which fronts upon the Grand 
Canal, nearly opposite the Church of S. Eusta- 
chio ; and many of his contemporary Men of 
Letters, besides Ruskin, were here his guests. 
He bequeathed his apartments and their 
contents to two faithful old servants. 

Mr. Brown was buried, in August, 1883, in 
the Protestant portion of the Cemetery of S. 
Michele. 

Not far from Brown, in the same grounds, 
lies Eugene Schuyler, "Statesman, Diplo- 
matist, Traveller, Geographer, Historian, Es- 
sayist," who died at the Grand Hotel in 
Venice in 1890. 

G. P. R. James, who died in Venice in 
i860, was buried in this same Protestant 
Cemetery. The tablet over his grave, black- 
ened by time, broken and hardly decipherable, 
contains the following epitaph, said to have 
been the composition of Landor : " His merits 
as a writer are known wherever the English 
language is, and as a man they rest on the 
heads of many. A few friends have erect- 



39 

ed this humble and perishable monument." 
There is a vague tradition among the older 
alien residents here that James was not 
buried at S. Michele at all, but on the Lido, 
where are a few very ancient stones and 
monuments marking the graves of foreign 
visitors to Venice. They are in a state of 
picturesque and utter dilapidation, moss-cov- 
ered, broken, and generally undecipherable; 
and none of them seem to be of later date 
than the middle of the Eighteenth Century. 
They are within the ramparts of Forte S. 
Nicolo, near the powder-magazine, and are 
only seen by the consent of the military au- 
thorities, which is obtained with difficulty. 
It is said that Byron expressed a wish to 
leave his bones here, if his soul should be 
demanded of him in Italy. 

Sir Henry Layard lodged at the Hotel di 
Roma in 1867, when began his connection 
with the glass-works of Murano. 

He did not purchase the Palazzo Cappello, 
on the Grand Canal, corner of the Rio S. 
Polo, until 1878. Here he received and en- 
tertained nearly all the distinguished visitors 



40 

to Venice, until the time of his death, which 
occurred in London in 1894. 

Mr. Howells, upon his first arrival in 
Venice, lodged, for a time, in the house of 
his predecessor as American Consul, in a 
little street behind the Square of St. Mark. 
Then he removed to the Campo S. Bartolom- 
meo, on the Rialto side of the square, and 
later he lived in the Campo S. Stefano before 
he began house-keeping in the Casa Falier, a 
queer little mansion on the right-hand side 
of the Grand Canal, three doors from the in- 
famous Iron Bridge. The Casa Falier has 
cage-like, over-hanging windows, one of them 
figuring as " The Balcony on the Grand 
Canal," from which he saw, and set down, 
" sights more gracious and fairy than poets 
ever dreamed." 

His latest house here, in 1864-5, was 
in the Palazzo Giustiniani dei Vescovi, on 
the other side of the thoroughfare. It is 
the middle of three Gothic palaces on the 
Grand Canal which look towards the Rialto, 
are next to the Palazzo Foscari, and which, 
as some one has expressed it, are now a 




CASA FALIER, WHERE MR. HOWELLS LIVED 



41 

mosaic-mill. Here he received and put upon 
record the impressions of his Venetian Life, 
which have given so much pleasure to so 
many readers, in Venice and out of it, and 
which have told us so many things we want 
to know about Venice and the Venetians. 

Mr. Charles Dudley Warner, during one 
long and happy summer in Venice, wrote the 
story of his Winter on the Nile. He lived in 
the Barbaro Palace, on the Grand Canal, not 
far from the Falier house of Mr. Howells, on 
the same side of the stream, but on the other 
side of the Iron Bridge, and nearly opposite 
the modern-mosaic-frescoed ancient establish- 
ment of Murano-work, which Mr. Howells 
occupied later. Over the front door of Mr. 
Warner's house is a great carved head of 
some ancient worthy, perhaps a Barbaro, 
perhaps a saint or a god, whose rank or title 
is to-day unknown. Mr. Warner's writing 
was done in a little room with a balconied 
window, on the top floor of the neighboring 
Palazzo Fosclo. 

Of the other later-day historians of Venice, 
it may be stated that Dr. Robertson, the an- 



42 

nalist of Sarpi and of St. Mark's, lives in the 
Casa S. Leonardo, on the Rio S. Maria della 
Salute, and by the side of the church of that 
name ; that Mr. Augustus J. C. Hare took most 
of his Walks in Venice from the Hotel Milano, 
fronting on the Grand Canal ; that Mrs. Clara 
Erskine Clement designed her crown for The 
Queen of the Adriatic at the Hotel Europa ; 
and that Mrs. Oliphant made The Makers of 
Venice in a house in the Campo S. Maurizio. 

To go back to the men of other days. 
Addison came to Venice in the winter of 
I 699-1 700. His remarks upon Italy are enter- 
taining enough, although of the guide-book 
order, and he is uniformly silent regarding 
his experiences here. As Walpole said of 
him, he travelled through the poets and not 
through Italy ; all his ideas were borrowed 
from the descriptions, not from the reality, 
and he saw places as they had been, not as 
they were. 

Goldoni is one of the few* native actors 
of Venice who merit an encore here. He is 
as interesting to-day as he was to the audi- 
ences who crowded the theatres of Venice to 




GOLDONI S STAIRCASE 



43 

witness his performances. He seems to have 
been born in the Calle dei Nomboli, at the 
corner of the Ponte and the Fondamenta S. 
Toma, in the fine old house which contains 
the medallion portrait of the poet, and an 
inscription stating that here Carlo Goldoni 
first saw the light in 1707. It is still known 
as the Palazzo Centani, and it still possesses 
a beautiful Gothic staircase, upon the railing 
of which a little marble lion still placidly 
sits. But, as Mr. Howells points out, not- 
withstanding the assertions of the guides and 
the guide-books to the contrary, the drama- 
tist could hardly have written many of his 
immortal comedies here, unless he was un- 
usually precocious even for a poet, for he 
was a small child when his family moved 
to Chioggia. 

Signor Tassini says that Goldoni was once 
a resident in the Campo Rusolo, called also 
Campo Canova. The modern statue to 
Goldoni, 1883, with its harmonious base, 
stands in the Campo S. Bartolommeo, near 
the Rialto Bridge. And there is a tradition 
that Goldoni was at one time in some way 



44 

associated with the present Teatro Minerva 
in the Calle del Teatro S. Moise, off the 
modernized Via 22 Marzo, and now the home 
of the intellectual Marionettes. 

In an elaborate and very carefully pre- 
pared volume, entitled J. J. Rousseau a Ve- 
nise, 1J4.3-1J4.4, written by M. Victor Cere- 
sole, and published in Geneva and in Paris 
in 1885, the writer proves very conclusive- 
ly that Rousseau did not remain so long in 
Venice as Rousseau declared he did in the 
Confessions ; and he points out, upon contem- 
poraneous documentary evidence, that Rous- 
seau occupied the tall thin house in the Cana- 
reggio Quarter, which is to-day on the Fonda- 
menta delle Penitente, and bears the num- 
ber 968. It is the warehouse of a firm of 
wood merchants, who have removed the 
grand staircase and have utilized a greater 
part of the aristocratic old mansion, which 
was once the home of a powerful Venetian 
family, and later of the Spanish Ambassa- 
dors, as a storehouse for their merchandise, 
imported from the mountains of Cadore, the 
land of Titian, and retailed by the innkeep- 




GOLDONI S STATUE 



45 

ers of the present at seventy cents an arm- 
ful. Rousseau lived long enough in Venice 
to have added to his own innate power of 
invention some of the Venetian love of ex- 
aggeration ; and if, in his Confessions^ he in- 
creased the length of his stay here by at 
least one -third, it is not easy to say how 
much of what he said he did here is fiction 
or fact. 

Upon the Ramo dei Fuseri side of the 
Hotel Victoria and upon the little bridge of 
the same name is a tablet bearing the fol- 
lowing inscription : " Goethe wohnte Jder 28 
Sep.-n Oct. MDCCLXXXVir Notwith- 
standing the bad reputation for veracity 
which the Venetian tablets generally have 
achieved for themselves, and despite the ex- 
traordinarily free and phonetic translation of 
a distinguished American artist from Hart- 
ford, Connecticut, to the effect that Goethe 
" weren't here," it seems from his own con- 
fessions that Goethe was here, on this iden- 
tical spot, and at that particular period of 
his existence, for he wrote : " I am comfort- 
ably housed in 'The Queen of England' [so 



46 

named in honor of the consort of George 
III.], not far from St. Mark's Square, and 
this is the greatest advantage of my quar- 
ters. My windows look out on a small ca- 
nal between high houses ; directly under me 
is an arched bridge, and opposite a densely 
populated alley. So live I, and so shall I for 
some time remain, until my packet is ready 
for Germany, and until I have had a surfeit 
of the pictures of the city. The loneliness I 
have sighed for with such passionate longing 
I now enjoy. I know perhaps only one man 
in Venice, and I am not likely to meet him 
in some time." 

How much Goethe did for Venice, and for 
the Hotel of the English Queen, Goethe him- 
self probably never knew. But ever since 
Goethe expressed, in print, his romantic love 
for the place, German brides have been com- 
ing here on their wedding -trips, and have 
been trying to see Venice as Goethe saw it, 
and have been quoting Goethe to their hus- 
bands-of-a-day-or-two, and have been pre- 
tending an enthusiasm for Venice which they 
do not always feel, simply because, somehow, 



47 

this is considered, on Goethe's account, the 
proper thing for German brides to do. 

The biographers of Samuel Rogers have 
printed only fragmentary portions of the Di- 
ary and Letters written during his visit to 
Italy in 1814, and very few of his personal 
experiences here have been preserved. We 
learn that Venice greatly delighted him, and 
that he was particularly fond of loitering 
about the Square of St. Mark. No doubt 
he was wont to break his fast at the Restau- 
rant Quadri, and very likely he was accus- 
tomed to break the fast of the doves who 
loitered there too. 

Byron spent the winter of i8i6-'i7 in 
Venice. On the 17th of November, 18 16, 
he wrote to Moore : " I have fallen in love, 
which, next to falling into the canal (which 
would be of no use, as I can swim), is the 
best, or the worst, thing I could do. I have 
got some extremely good apartments in the 
house of a Merchant of Venice, who is a 
good deal occupied with business, and has 
a wife in her twenty -second year." He 
spoke more than once of these lodgings, but 



4 8 

he gave no hint as to where they were, and he 
asked Murray to address him Poste Restante. 
Moore, however, says that for many months 
he continued to occupy the same rooms " in 
an extremely narrow street, called the Spez- 
zeria, at the house of a linen-draper." 

The Spezzeria is not a street, but a dis- 
trict of the town, near the Rialto Quarter. 
It was devoted, in Byron's day, to the deal- 
ers in spices. His Merchant of Venice, there- 
fore, should have been a vender of drugs, 
sugars, coffees, spices, wax- candles and the 
like, in wholesale. But, alas for the romance 
of it all ! tradition, in Venice, says that he 
was a plain, commonplace baker who lived, 
in good enough style, not in the Spezzeria, 
but in the Frezzeria, the Street of the Makers 
of Arrows. 

In December Byron wrote to Murray: 
" I have begun, and am proceeding in, a 
study of the Armenian language, which I 
acquire, as well as I can, at the Armenian 
Convent here, where I go every day to take 
lessons of a learned friar, and have gained 
some singular and not useless information 



49 

with regard to the literature and customs 
of that Oriental people. They have an es- 
tablishment here — a church and convent of 
ninety monks, very learned and accomplished 
men, some of them. They have also a press, 
and make great efforts for the enlightening 
of their nation. I find the language (which 
is twin, the literal and the vulgar) difficult, 
but not invincible (at least I hope not)* I 
shall go on. I found it necessary to twist 
my mind ' round some severe study ; and 
this, as being the hardest I could devise 
here, will be a file for the serpent." 

He twisted his mind around the Armenian 
tongue for upwards of half a year, a long 
time for Byron ; and his memory is still held 
dear among the Armenian brothers, although, 
of course, none of those are left now who 
remember him personally ; and there are 
only a few relics of him to be found here. 
A poor portrait, not contemporaneous; his 
desk ; his inkstand ; his pen ; and some of 
his manuscript Armenian exercises are rev- 
erently preserved. An aged monk who came 
to Venice after Byron's day showed me, 



50 

one sunny afternoon, his own apartment, 
which he said had once been the English 
poet's. Although large and comfortable, 
and scrupulously clean, it is scantily and 
p]ainly furnished, and is not very inviting in 
itself. It has but one window, which is al- 
most directly over the main entrance of the 
establishment, with an outlook on to the 
little canal and the open waters beyond. 
The beautiful old monastery, with its more 
beautiful old garden, is peaceful and rest- 
ful ; far from the madding crowd, and sur- 
rounded by an air of intellect and learning 
which might tempt one to try to twist one's 
mind around something sweet and nourish- 
ing for one's own sake, if not for Byron's. 

On the 14th June, 1817, Byron wrote to 
Murray again, this time from " the banks of 
the Brenta, a few miles from Venice, where 
I have colonized for six months to come." 
He was again in Venice in 18 18 and 18 19, 
and he wrote, " I transport my horse to the 
Lido bordering the Adriatic (where the fort 
is), so that I get a gallop of some miles daily 
along the strip of beach which reaches to 



5i 

Malamocco." At this period he was occu- 
pying the centre of the three Mocenigo Pal- 
aces, on the Grand Canal. 

Moore met Byron in Venice in 1819, and 
he describes the five or six days they spent 
together here. He found Byron with whis- 
kers, and fuller both in face and person than 
when he had seen him last, and leading any- 
thing but a reputable life. In Venice por- 
tions of Manfred, Childe Harold, and Don 
Juan were written. 

Bakers and poets, in Venice, seem to have 
a mutual attraction, for there are men still 
living here who remember Gautier when he 
was a lodger over the baker's shop in the 
Campo S. Moise, on the left-hand side, and 
opposite the corner of the church, as one 
goes towards the Square of St. Mark. His 
landlord, like Byron's, was a Merchant of 
Venice in bread and cakes, in a retail way ; 
and the establishment is still to be seen on 
the same spot, its window filled with the 
staff of life of all sizes and in every shape, 
some of the latter often fantastic. 

The gondolas of Venice have frequent- 



52 

ly been compared to hearses, but Shelley- 
likened them to " moths, of which a coffin 
might have been the chrysalis." Clara Shel- 
ley, a daughter of the poet, died " at an inn " 
in Venice in 1818, and "she sleeps on bleak 
Lido, near Venetian seas." 

In Julian and Maddalo, written in 18 18, 
Shelley tells us how he — 

"... rode one evening with Count Maddalo 
Upon the bank of sand which breaks the flow 
Of Adda towards Venice : a bare strand 
Of hillocks, heaped from ever-shifting sand, 
Matted with thistles and amphibious weeds, 
Such as from earth's embrace the salt ooze breeds, 
Is this ; an uninhabited sea-side, 
Which the lone fisher, when his nets are dried, 
Abandons; and no other object breaks 
The waste, but one dwarf tree and some few stakes, 
Broken and unrepaired, and the tide makes 
A narrow space of level sand thereon, 
Where 'twas our wont to ride while day went 

down. 
This ride was my delight." 

The Lido, of course, is here referred to. 
Later, in the same poem, he says : 



53 

" Servants announced the gondola, and we 
Through the fast-falling rain and high-wrought 

sea 
Sailed to the island where the mad-house stands." 

Elsewhere he speaks of "ocean's nurse- 
ling, Venice "; but he never states where he 
lodged in Venice during any of his brief vis- 
its here. 

Scott arrived in Venice on the 19th of 
May, 1832, and he remained here until the 
23d. His biographer says that he showed 
no curiosity about anything but the Bridge 
of Sighs and the adjoining dungeons, down 
into which latter he would scramble, though 
the exertion was exceedingly painful to him. 
It is not recorded where he lodged here, and 
he went slowly and sadly home to die. 

George Sand and Alfred de Musset spent 
a number of months, in 1833-34, at the Ho- 
tel Danieli, and there De Musset was very 
ill of a brain-fever, caused, according to the 
story of old residents, by Mme. Dudevant's 
desertion of him, although other, and perhaps 
better, authorities declare that she never left 
his bedside until he was pronounced out of 



54 

danger. All statements agree, however, that 
she was not with him when his brother came 
for him, in the spring of 1834, and carried 
him back to Paris. 

James Fenimore Cooper, on his arrival 
here in 1838, "spent a day or two at the 
Hotel Leone Bianco, on the northwest side 
of the Square"; but later he " took apart- 
ments near the Palazzo, where he set up his 
own gondola." He did what we all do on 
our first visit to Venice ; but his conclusions 
are so unlike those of most of us that they 
are worth recording. "Although Venice was 
attractive at first," he says, " in the absence 
of acquaintances it became monotonous and 
wearying. A town in which the sound of 
wheels and hoofs is never known, in which 
the stillness of the narrow, ravine-like canals 
is seldom broken, unless by the fall of an oar 
or the cry of a gondolier, fatigues one by its 
unceasing calm. I do not remember to have 
been so much struck with any place on enter- 
ing it. I do not recollect ever to have been 
so soon tired of a residence in a capital." 

The very absence of the noise of hoof and 



55 

wheel, the very silence of which he com- 
plains, are, to most tired-minded travellers, 
the greatest of the charms of the capital city 
of Venice. But happily we each have our 
own points of view. 

Dickens came first to Venice in 1844, when 
he wrote to Forster : " Here I sit in the sober 
solitude of a famous inn, with the great bell 
of St. Mark ringing twelve at my elbow ; 
with three arched windows in my room (two 
stories high) looking down upon the Grand 
Canal, and away, beyond, to where the sun 
went down to-night in a blaze." He did 
not tell the name of the famous inn ; but 
it sounds like Hotel Danieli. Elsewhere he 
said to the same correspondent : " My Dear 
Fellow — Nothing in the world that you have 
ever heard of Venice is equal to the magnif- 
icent and stupendous reality; the wildest 
visions of The Arabian Nights are nothing 
to the Piazza of St. Mark, and the first im- 
pression of the inside of the Church. The 
gorgeous and wonderful reality of Venice is 
beyond the fancy of the wildest dreamer. 
Opium couldn't build such a place, and en- 



56 

chantment couldn't shadow it forth in vis- 
ion." In 1853 he wrote to Forster : "We 
live in the same house I lived in nine years 
ago, and have the same sitting-room — close 
to the Bridge of Sighs and the Palace of the 
Doges. The room is at the corner of the 
house, and there is a narrow street of water 
running round the side." Again, no doubt, 
Hotel Danieli. 

In 1845 Mrs. Jameson wrote to Catharine 
Sedgwick: "Did you visit Venice? I for- 
get. In the world there is nothing like it. 
It seems to me that we can find a similitude 
for everything else, but Venice is like noth- 
ing else — Venice the beautiful, the wonder- 
ful. I had seen it before, but it was as new 
to me as if unbeheld ; and every morning 
when I arose I was still in the same state of 
wonder and enchantment." She made sev- 
eral visits to Venice, but she gave no hint as 
to her places of lodgement here. 

George Eliot and Lewes arrived in Venice 
on the night of the 4th June, i860. "What 
stillness !" she wrote, " what beauty ! Look- 
ing out from the high windows of our hotel, I 




THE "NOAH CORNER" OF THE DOGE'S PALACE 



57 

felt it was a pity to go to bed. Venice was 
more beautiful than romance had feigned." 

On the 15th May, 1864, she wrote to the 
Trollopes, from the Hotel de Ville: "We 
reached Venice three days ago, and have the 
delight of finding everything more beautiful 
than it was to us four years ago." Her last 
visit to Venice was made with Mr. Cross, 
in the summer of 1880, when her husband 
was very ill at the Hotel Europa. 

Nearly opposite the Europa, on the Grand 
Canal, stands the Casa Simitecolo, in the 
parish of S. Gregorio, where Miss Constance 
Fenimore Woolson died, on the 24th January, 
1894. She had, during the preceding year, 
occupied apartments in the Casa Biondetti, 
on the same side of the Canal, but nearer 
the Suspension - Bridge. As was her own 
desire, Miss Woolson was buried in the 
Protestant Cemetery in Rome. 

Mr. Hare says that Chateaubriand was once 
a guest at the Europa ; and that Wagner, in 
the same house, wrote a certain Literary- 
Musical Landmark, called Tristram and 
Isolde. Wagner died in 1883, in the Palazzo 



58 

Vendramin Calerghi, on the Grand Canal, a 
fine mansion, dating back to the end of the 
Fifteenth Century. It is opposite the Museo 
Civico, and is sometimes called the " Non 
Nobis Palace," because of the inscription 
" Non Nobis D online. Nan Nobis," in great 
letters across its front. 

In the month of May, 1869, Helen Hunt 
wrote: "We are most comfortably established 
at the Hotel Vittoria, not on the Grand 

Canal, thank Heaven ! When N at first 

said that she did not dare to stay on the 
Grand Canal, because she feared too much 
sea air, I was quite dismayed. But now I am 
thankful enough to have dry land, that is, a 
stone floor laid on piles, on one side of our 
house. I look down from any window into 
one of the cracks called streets; the people 
look as if they were being threaded into 
the Scriptural needle's eye, and a hand- 
organ looks like a barricade." " Cracks called 
streets" is good. 

On " Thanksgiving Day, 1873," Lowell 
wrote to Thomas Hughes: "To -day the 
weather is triumphant, and my views of life 



59 

consequently more cheerful. It is so warm 
that we are going out presently in the gon- 
dola, to take up a few dropped stitches. 
Venice, after all, is incomparable, and during 
this visit I have penetrated into little slits 
of streets in every direction on foot. The 
canals only give one a visiting acquaintance. 
The calli make you an intimate of the house- 
hold." 

In October, 1881, Lowell wrote to Mr. 
Gilder from Hotel Danieli : "It is raining; 
never mind, I am in Venice. Sirocco is do- 
ing his worst ; I defy him, I am in Venice. I 
am horribly done ; but what can I expect ? 
I am in Venice." 

Lord Houghton was living in 1878 at the 
Pension Suisse, or Hotel de Rome, on the 
Grand Canal. 

In 1878 Browning was at the Albergo dell' 
Universo, the Palazzo Brandolin-Rota, on the 
shady side of the Grand Canal, just below the 
Accademia and the Suspension-Bridge. Here 
he remained for a fortnight ; and he visited 
the same hotel again in 1879, 1880, and 1881. 
In 1885 he occupied a suite of rooms in the 



6o 

Palazzo Alvise, on the other side of the 
Grand Canal, and about midway between the 
Grand Hotel and the Hotel Grande Bretagne ; 
and during the same year he entered into 
negotiations for the purchase of the Palazzo 
Montecuccoli, next door to the Albergo dell' 
Universo, which he used to frequent. He 
wrote : " It is situated on the Grand Canal, 
and is described by Ruskin — to give no other 
authority — as 'a perfect and only rich ex- 
ample of Byzantine Renaissance : its warm 
yellow marbles are magnificent.' And again, 
' an exquisite example [of Byzantine Renais- 
sance] as applied to domestic architecture.' 
So testifies The Stones of Venice." He never 
owned the palace, however, the foundations 
of the house proving insecure. 

During the last year of his life he lived in 
a beautifully restored palace on the Grand 
Canal. It is one of the finest private resi- 
dences in Europe ; but as it is now the home 
of the poet's son, it is not, of course, except 
in his absence, open to the public view. It 
contains many original portraits of Robert 
and Elizabeth Barrett Browning, by different 




THE HOUSE IN WHICH BROWNING DIED 



6i 

artists and at different ages, a number of 
bronze and marble busts of them by the 
present occupant, and notably their private 
libraries. Never was seen such a collection 
of absolutely invaluable "presentation cop- 
ies" from all the writers of note who were 
the contemporaries and the friends of the 
wonderfully gifted husband and wife. To 
at least one visitor to Venice it is the 
most interesting spot in the interesting 
city ; and he would rather be the possessor 
of that private library than of all the rest 
of the great treasures of Venice put to- 
gether. 

Off the library, and on what, for want of a 
better term, may be called the drawing-room 
floor, is a bow-windowed recess delicately and 
exquisitely decorated in white and gold. It 
was originally the private chapel of that 
member of the Rezzonico family who be- 
came Pope Clement XIII. ; and, carefully 
restored, it has been dedicated by the hus- 
band and the son to the memory of Mrs. 
Browning. It is plainly visible from the 
larger and the smaller canal ; but it was not 



62 



intended for the world to see, and what is its 
nature, and what its contents, I have no right 
yet, and no wish here, to disclose. 

On the side of the Browning Palace, above 
the little Canal of S. Barnaba, and immedi- 
ately below the windows of the poet's bed- 
room, is a tablet with this inscription, 

"Robert Browning died in this house 12th 
December, 1889. 

"Open my heart and you will see 
Graved inside of it ' Italy.' " 

This Rezzonico Palace was purchased by 
Mrs. Robert Barrett Browning in 1888, and 
here at the close of the next year the poet 
died. He had said to Miss Browning, not 
very long before, that he wished to be 
buried wherever he might chance to breathe 
his last : if in England, by the side of his 
mother; if in France, by the side of his 
father; if in Italy, by the side of his wife. 
Further interments having been prohibited 
in the English Cemetery in Florence, where 
lies his wife, his body was placed tempo- 
rarily in the chapel of the Mortuary Island 



03 



of S. Michele here. A few days later he was 
laid at rest in the Poets' Corner at Westmin- 
ster Abbey, with " Italy" graved inside his 
heart. 



INDEX OF PERSONS 



Addison, Joseph, 42. 
Aldo II., Manuzio, 22. 
Aldo, Paolo, 22. 
Aldo, Pio, 20-22. 

Barozzi, N., quoted, 17. 
Boccaccio, 16-19. 
Bollani, Bishop, quoted, 

11. 
Bolognese, Pietro, 19. 
Brown, Horatio F., 37. 
Brown, Horatio F., quot- 
ed, 19, 20-21. 
Brown, Rawdon, 37-38. 
Brown, Rawdon, quoted, 

8, 29-30, 
Browning, Elizabeth Bar- 
rett, 60-61. 
Browning-, Robert, 59-63. 
Byron, Lord, 30, 38, 47- 

Byron, Lord, quoted, 27. 

Ceresole, Victor, 

quoted, 44. 
Chateaubriand, 57. 
Cinthio, G.B., quoted, 11. 
Clement, Clara Erskine, 

42. 
Clement, Clara Erskine, 

quoted, 21. 



Cooper, James Fenimore, 

54-55. 

Dickens, Charles, 55- 

56. 
Disraeli, Benjamin, 26- 

27. 
D' Israeli, Isaac, 26-27. 
D'Israeli, Isaac, quoted, 

v., 27-28. 
Dudevant, Mme., 53-54. 
Duse, Elenora, 9-10. 

" Eliot,George," 56-57. 
Elze, Th., quoted, 6-7. 
Erasmus, 23. 
Evans, Mary Anne, 56- 

57. 
Evelyn, John, 33-34. 

FURNESS,HORACE HOW- 
ARD, quoted, 6-7. 

Gautier, Theophile, 

5i. 

" George Eliot," 56-57. 

" George Sand," 53-54. 

Gibbon, Edward, quot- 
ed, 24. 

Goethe, 45-47. 

Goethe, quoted, 1, 27. 



66 



Goldoni, Carlo, 42-44. 
Goldsmith, Oliver, 7. 
Gregoropoulos, 21. 

Hare, Augustus J. C, 

42. 
Hare, Augustus J. C, 

quoted, 10-11, 57. 
Houghton, Lord, 59. 
Howells, William Dean, 

40-41. 
Howells, William Dean, 

quoted, 5, 11, 19. 
Hunt, Helen, 58. 

James, G. P. R., 38-39. 
Jameson, Anna, 56. 

Landor, Walter Sav- 
age, quoted, 38-39. 

Layard, Sir Henry, 39- 
40. 

Lewes, George Henry, 

56-57. 
Lowell, James Russell, 

58-59. 
Luther, Martin, 23. 

Milton, John, 32-33. 
Montaigne, 31-32. 
Moore, Thomas, quoted, 

48, 51. 

Moro, Christoforo, 7, 8, 

9-10. 
Musset, Alfred de, 53-54. 

Oliphant, Margaret 

W., 42. 
Oliphant, Margaret W., 

quoted, 29. 



Petrarch, 16-20. 
Polo, Marco, 13-15. 
Polo, Nicolo, 14-15. 

Robertson, Alexan- 
der, 41-42. 

Robertson, Alexander, 
quoted, 22, 24. 

Rogers, Samuel, 47. 

Rousseau, J. J., 44-45. 

Ruskin, John, 36, 37. 

Ruskin, John, quoted, 1, 
34-35, 60. 

" Sand, George," 53-54. 
Sanudo, Marino, 28-30. 
Sarpi, Paolo, 23-26. 
Schuyler, Eugene, 38. 
Scott, Walter, 53. 
Shakspere, 4, 6-7. 
Shakspere, quoted, 4, 13. 
Shelley, Percy B., 52-53. 
Symonds, John Adding- 
ton, 37. 

Tassini, Giuseppe, 
quoted, 8-9, 19, 30, 

43- 
Tasso, 30. 

Wagner, Richard, 57- 
58. 

Walpole, Horace, quot- 
ed, 42. 

Warner, Charles Dudley, 
41. 

Woolson, Constance 
Fenimore, 57. 

Zeno, Apostolo, 36. 



INDEX OF PLACES 



ACCADEMIA, 59. 
Agostino, S., Parish, 20, 

21. 
Alvise, Palazzo, 60. 
Armenian Convent, 48- 

50. 

Barbaro, Palazzo, 41. 
Barnaba, S., Canale, 62. 
Bartolommeo, S., Campo, 

35> 4o, 43- 

Biagio, S., Parish, 25. 

Biondetti, Casa, 57. 

Black Eagle, Inn, Eve- 
lyn's, 33-35. 

Black Eagle, Inn, Rus- 
kin's, 34-36. 

Brandolin - Rota, Palaz- 
zo, 59. 

Brenta, The, 50. 

Briati, Fondamenta, 2. 

Bridge of Sighs, 53, 56. 

Brown, Casa, 37. 

Calcina, Campiello 

DELLA, 36. 

Calcina, Ponte della, 36. 
Calcina, Inn, 36, 37. 
Calle : 
Dose, del, 18. 



Nomboli, dei, 43. 

Pistor, del, 21. 

Stagneri, dei, 35. 

Teatro, del, S. Moise, 
44. 
Campo or Campiello : 

Bartolommeo, S., 35, 
40, 43. 

Calcina, della, 36. 

Canova, 43. 

Carmine, del, 7, 8. 

Fosca, 26. 

Incurabili, 37. 

Manin, 22-23. 

Maurizio, S., 42. 

Moise, S., 36, 51. 

Paternian, S., 22-23. 

Rusolo, 43. 

Stefano, S., 23, 40. 
Canale : 

Barnaba, S., 62. 

Calcina, della, 36. 

Carmine, del, 7. 

Giudecca, 36. 

Grand Canal, 9, 30, 38, 
39, 40,41,42, 51, 55, 
57, 59, 60, 61. 
Canareggio, District, 10, 

13, 44- 
Canova, Campo, 43. 



68 



Cappello, Palazzo, 39-40. 
Carmine, Campo del, 7 

8. 
Carmine, Canale del, 7. 
Casa: 

Biondetti, 57. 

Brown, 37. 

Falier, 40-41. 

Leonardo, S., 42. 

Simitecolo, 57. 

Vida della, 37-38. 
Centani, Palazzo, 43. 
Chioggia, 43. 
Churches : 

Eustachio, S., 38. 

Giobbe, S., 10. 

Giorgio, S., 27. 

Lorenzo, S., 15-16. 

Maria della Salute, S., 
25, 42. 

Michele, S., 25. 

Moise, S., 51. 

Servite, 24-26. 

Stefano, S., 23. 
Cicogna, Palazzo, 2. 
Contarini delle Figure, 

Palazzo, 30. 
Contarini-Fasan, Palaz- 
zo, 9. 
Council Chamber of the 

Doges, 6, 32. 
Croce, Rio della, 11. 

Danieli. Hotel, 53-54. 

55-56, 59. 
District : 

Canareggio, 10, 13,44. 

Spezzeria, 48. 

Zattere, 36, 37. 
Dogana, 33. 



Doge's, Palace of the, 5, 

25, 54, 56. 
Dose, Calle del, 18. 

English Queen, Ho- 
tel, 45-46, 58. 

Europa, Hotel, 37, 42, 57 
bis. 

Eustachio, S., Church, 

38. 
Exchange, The, 34. 

Falier Casa, 40-41. 
Fava, Ponte della, 35. 
Fondaco dei Turchi, 29, 

30. 
Fondamenta : 

Briati, 2. 

Megio, del, 29. 

Penitente, delle, 44. 

Toma, S., 43. 
Fosca, Campo, 26. 
Fosca, S., Rio, 26. 
Foscari, Palazzo, 40. 
Fosclo, Palazzo, 41. 
Frezzeria, Via, 48. 
Fused, Ramo dei, 45. 

Giobbe, S., Church, 10. 
Giorgio, S., Church, 27, 
Giudecca Canal, 36. 
Giudecca Island, 12. 
Giustiniani dei Vescovi, 

Palazzo, 40-41. 
Goldoni Statue, 35, 43. 
Grande Bretagne, Hotel, 

60. 
Grand Canal, 9, 30, 38, 

39, 40, 41, 42, 51, 55, 

57, 59, 60, 61. 



C 9 



Grand Hotel, 9, 38, 60. 
Gregorio, S., Parish, 57. 

Hotels : 

Black Eagle, Evelyn's, 

33-35- 
Black Eagle, Ruskin's, 

34-36, 
Calcina, 36, 37. 
Danieli, 53-54, 55-5 6 > 

59- 
English Oueen, 45-46, 

58. 

Europa, 37, 42, 57 bis. 

Grand, 9, 38, 60. 

Grande Bretagne, 60. 

Leone Bianco, 54. 

Milano, 42. 

Roma, 39, 59. 

Suisse, 59. 

Uni verso, 59-60. 

Victoria, 45-46, 58. 

Ville, de, 57. 

Incurabili, Campiello, 

37- 
Incurabili, Ponte, 37. 

Leonardo, S., Casa, 42. 
Leone Bianco, Hotel, 54. 
Library of S. Marco, 25, 

36. 
Lido, 39, 50, 52. 
Lorenzo, S., Church, 15- 

16. 

Malamocco, 51. 
Malibran Theatre, 2, 13, 

14. 
Manin, Campo, 22-23. 



Marco, S., Cathedral, 19- 

20, 55. 
Marco, S., Library, 25, 

36. 
Marco, S., Piazza, 19-20, 

40, 46, 47, 54, 55. 
Marcuolo, S., Parish, 37- 

38. 
Maria dell' Orto, S., Par- 
ish, 26. 
Maria della Salute, S., 

Church, 25, 42. 
Maria della Salute, S., 

Rio, 42. 
Marzo, 22 ; Via, 35-36, 44. 
Maurizio, S., Campo, 42. 
Megio, Fondamenta del, 

29. 
Megio, Ponte del, 29. 
Merceria, Via, 34. 
Michele, S., Cemetery 

Island, 25, 38-39, 62. 
Michele, S., Church, 25. 
Milano, Hotel, 42. 
Millione, Corte, 13, 14- 

15- 
Minerva Theatre, 44. 
Mocenigo, Palazzo, 30, 5 1 . 
Moise, S., Calle del Tea- 

tro, 44. 
Moise, S., Campo, 36, 51. 
Moise, S., Church, 51. 
Molin, Palazzo del, 17. 
Montecuccoli, Palazzo, 

60. 
Museo Civico, 30, 58. 

Nicolo, S. Forte, 39, 50. 
Nomboli, Calle dei, 43. 
Non-Nobis, Palazzo, 58. 



70 



Palace : 
Alvise, 60. 
Barbaro, 41. 
Brandolin-Rota, 59. 
Cappello, 39-40. 
Centani, 43. 
Cicogna, 2. 
Contarini delle Figure, 

3°. 
Contarini-Fasan, 9. 

Doge's, 5, 25, 54, 56. 

Foscari, 40. 

Fosclo, 41. 

Giustiniani dei Ves- 
covi, 40-41. 

Marco, S., 25, 36. 

Mocenigo, 30, 51. 

Molin, del, 17. 

Montecuccoli, 60. 

Non-Nobis, 58. 

Polo, dei, 13-15. 

Rezzonico, 61-62. 

Vendramin - Calerghi, 
58. 
Parish : 

Agostino, S., 20-21. 

Biagio, S., 25. 

Gregorio, S., 57. 

Marcuolo, S., 37-38. 

Maria, S., dell' Orto, 
26. 
Faternian, S., Campo, 

22-23. 
Piazza S. Marco, 19-20, 

40, 46-47, 54, 55. 
Penitente, Fondamenta 

delle, 44. 
Pistor, Calle del, 21. 
Polo, Palazzo dei, 13-15. 
Polo, S. Rio, 39-40. 



Ponte : 
Bridge of Sighs, 53, 56. 
Calcina, 36. 
Fava, della, 35. 
Incurabili, 37. 
Megio, del, 29. 
Pugni, dei, 24. 
Rial to, 6, 32-33, 34, 35, 

4o» 43- 
Sepolcro, del, 17. 
Sosperi, dei, 53, 56. 
Protestant Cemetery, 25, 

38-39, 62. 
Pugni, Ponte dei, 24. 

Quadri, Restaurant, 

47- 

Rezzonico, Palazzo, 

61-62. 
Rialto Bridge, 6, 32-33, 

34, 35, 40, 43. 
Rio : 
Croce, della, 12. 
Fosca, S., 26. 
Maria della Salute, S., 

42. 
Polo, S., 39-40. 
Teatro Malibran del, 

13. 

Terra Secondo, 20-21. 

Roma, Hotel, 39, 59. 
Rusolo, Compo, 43. 

SCHIAVONI,RlVA DEGLI, 
17. 

Secondo, Rio Terra, 20- 

21. 
Sepolcro, Ponte del, 17. 
Servite Church, 24-26. 



7i 



Simitecolo, Casa, 57. 
Sosperi, Ponte dei, 53, 56. 
Spezzeria, District, 48. 
Stagneri, Calle dei, 35. 
Stefano, S., Campo, 23, 

40. 
Stefano, S., Church, 23. 
Suisse, Pension, 59. 

Teatro Malibran, 

Rio del, 13. 
Toma, S., Fondamenta, 

43- 
Turchi, Fondaco dei, 29, 

30- 



Universo, Albergo 
dell', 59-60. 

Vendramin-Calerghi, 

Palazzo, 58. 
Via: 

Frezzeria, 48. 

Marzo, 22, 35-36, 44. 

Merceria, 34. 
Victoria, Hotel, 45-46, 

58. 
Vida, Casa della, 37-38. 
Ville, Hotel de, 57. 

Zattere, District, 36, 37. 



THE END 



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